Lay Bare In Front Of God

That which I want most

What my heart so yearns for

Is that which I most fear



What is life without that?

Ever present, always lingering

Lurking like a trench coated bad man

The tick tock tick tock of Dread


Am I an addict?

I choose security and familiarity

Over an eternity of ecstatic dance


The temple is prepared

The butter lamps are lit

The frankincense resin is burning

The eyes of the saints peer at the golden door

Their hands form in prayer for my deliverance

The gates are drawn for my arrival

Always and forever

If I dare


Hold tight

Knuckles white

Teeth clenched

Surrendering only to death

Only to death!

Forsaking the keys to the kingdom


It is my own darkness that I avoid

I fear me, and for that I dread

That which God knows

That for which I will not look

Pull the needle of ego out of my arm

Take the tit of adolescence out of my mouth

Embrace the dread

Befriend the unrelenting bastard

The truth and its toll are the gateless gate

They say go through the gate

I turn and run the other way

The only way to the bottom of it

Is through the dark bottomless pit


Have I never felt the divine?

Relax my shoulders

Breathe slow and deep

Taste clean air

The invitation is to go in

Not out

Bathe in  the universal silence

Suffer in place

Release my desires

Open to the wide moist world of Gaia


The light that I seek lies just beyond

Just beyond….the horizon of my dark passenger

The light is alive

The light is life

The ambient emerald water of the island of Tortola

The early morning open window of the Midwest farm

The setting sun on the wandering elk of the Badlands

The whirling rainbow prisms of the crystal cenote in Mexico

God is everywhere

They whisper – Go to it

I am me.  If I dare


Am I strong enough to renounce that which no longer serves

Am I courageous enough to leave the tribe and go it alone

Am I wizard enough to incinerate self and survive

Am I naked enough to lay bare in front of God


Dare I dive into my own river of radiance

And render unto Cesar nothing


                                    Jay Cradeur 6/3/12


Real Love…

Real Love…

Musing from a man in the throes of an awakening of sorts.

I water the tomato plant, and there you are.  I smell the basil, and imagine the subtle essence of your scent.  I look at the sunrise and wonder if you are awake, looking at the same sun in same the sky at the same time.

I have never loved a woman until lately.  Truly loving a woman is not what I thought.  It is not what I have been taught.  It couldn’t be.  It must be self-taught.  It must descend from the heavens like a gift from the goddess.  When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.

Real love is not what passes for romantic love.  Romantic love is young love and it is possessive.  It loves the idea of love.  It enjoys the picture and wants to be viewed.

Real love only wants what is best for the object of its affection.   Can I be in service to the goddess, rather than a demand of the goddess?  Can I be a force of love, a conduit for love,  rather than a response or a reaction to love?  Can I love unconditionally, without any understanding, and without any expectation of receiving love in return?   Can I live in insecurity and uncertainty?  No guarantees?   If I can answer Yes, then I am approaching authentic love.  This is real love.  That is not the love of red roses.  This that I speak is not red.  It is so white hot, colors don’t matter.  The flame never extinguishes.  This love, the real stuff, is patient, and compassionate, and selfless, and prone to err on the side of ebullient adoration, and overwhelming feelings, and uncontainable bliss.   It is self-sustaining and available for everyone in my path.  The bright comes to life.  It is a light that must shine.  Heaven is gonna burn your eyes!

“I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One.” 

                                                Seth from the movie City of Angels

Real love is tempered with defeat, and heart ache, and ruptures.  Real love is forged steel.  Only someone who has loved and loss knows of what I speak.  Love is who I am.  It has taken a lifetime to unearth it.  Love was there all the time.  I had been looking everyplace except where it lives, deep inside of me.  It is not mine to give away.  It is a gift that flows through me.  I am only an ancient vessel.  Love is there for me to stay out of its way.  Can I do that?  Can I keep my petty boy wants out of it?  Can I relax into it?  Can I be a shining beacon of the ultimate possibility of love?  Not jealous.  Not possessive.  Not angry.  But rather can I be completely surrendered to the desires and wants of my beloved?  Can I be exuberantly broken wide open, and content, and aware of the magnificence of this willingness to love unconditionally, completely vulnerable, and exposed to both the highs and the lows of human emotion, heartbreak and ecstasy.  Real love is a worn smooth ocean stone, beautifully aged wave after wave.

To survive this love, this biggest of loves, I must focus inward.  My true love lies within, and only from there can it emanate out to my beloveds.   Anything else is just an illusion, not the real thing, but rather a shiny imitation that will not last the test of time.

A thought of her sends a cellular reaction throughout my body.  Like a gentle buzz, I can feel a light and fast vibration from my head to my toes.  I think of making love, and can only imagine her pleasure.  That will bring me my pleasure.  I see a future entwining, and can feel her hand in mine.  It is soft and warm and wise and infinitely capable of singular joy and divine expression.  Happiness descends on me at will, at any moment, all day, every day.

I water the tomato plant, and there you are.  I smell the basil, and imagine the subtle essence of your scent.  I look at the sunrise and wonder if you are awake, looking at the same sun in same the sky at the same time.

Am I talking about a physical woman, or the big She?  Is there any difference?  I have come to know them as one in the same.

She is she. And she is She.

Can I awaken both?  Am I grateful enough to have both?  Am I awake enough to deliver the adoration she and She deserve.  Have I earned her devotion with this master work of discipline that I call my life.   Time will tell.

“Love does not fail for you when you are rejected, betrayed or apparently not Loved.  Love fails for you when you reject, betray and do not love.  Therefore .. Love.”    Adi Da Samraj

Shame, Self Sabotage, and Taking Out The Garbage

Shame, Self Sabotage, and Taking Out The Garbage

I was raised a Catholic.  Seems Catholic are notorious for, among other things, guilt.  Catholics are good at feeling guilty.  As I look back, I realized I was told about a whole bunch of rules.  There were so many rules, there was no way I could live and not break quite a few of those rules.  I guess the idea is then I would feel guilty for not following all the rules.  Then I would have to go to church to pray for forgiveness, and take communion, to be purified and ready for a new week.  That didn’t work for me, so I just stopped being a Catholic at the age of 30.  It still seems like a rigged system that won’t allow for free thinking nor personal freedom.

Shame appears to result from something that we judge as “bad” happening.  I put bad in quotation marks, because calling something “bad” is a judgment, and not a statement of fact.  This is an important point.  The same applies to any judgment we call “good.”  It is not a statement of fact, but rather a self-imposed judgment, or a label we apply, to an event, a thing, or a person.  These self-imposed judgments cause us sadness and misery, and zap us of our life force.  These judgments then impact how we live our life, and create a filter through which we see and experience who we are and how we respond to everyday opportunities.

During our Bridge 3-day weekend events, we do a process called the Yellow and Blue Process.  It is really simple.  On a yellow piece of paper, we write down the three things that we did that causes us the most shame.  On the blue piece of paper, we write down the three things that were done to us, that cause us the most shame.  We then share these items with the group.  It is remarkable how much stuff we carry around, for a lifetime, without sharing it and/or releasing it.  I have seen men trembling with fear and embarrassment while sharing the most innocent of experiences.  It appears much of this shameful stuff happens just around 6th grade! Just the speaking of the incidents is such a relief.  Being heard and understanding that we are not alone, and that we are still loved even after admitting to such things, is purely and positively transformational.  We do this process during our first morning together, so you can imagine how amazing the remaining three days are with all that energy freed up.  Wowzer.

I know people, so many  people from so many weekend, who have shared in circle.  These are beautiful people, people who would not harm anyone or anything, people who truly care about other people.  These are people committed to transformation.  Still, something happened, something bad, something unforeseen, something traumatic, something that they carry around like a battle scar, something that shadows how they live.  No intentional damage.  Not anything like “I set out to do harm.”  No, just something happened, and from that point on, these beautiful people feel shame. You can see it like a grey cloud draping their energy body.

“What is seen as right and normal by society is seen as immature
distortion by a free mind.”     Vernon Howard

All this shame seems to be a result of social conditioning, whether it is from religions, or some other source, which creates these ridiculously high expectations of how perfect we should all be able to live our lives.  What I want to say is “Lighten up!  You are doing the best you can.  Enjoy it all!”  I realize my words are like farts in the wind.  An adult who has been told how to live his life, and which rules to follow since birth, isn’t going to change.  It is all too ingrained.  It is all to regimented, and the tribe is all in agreement, so that is the way it is going to be.  But just maybe one person might be moved to be a bit less tough and judgemental, and realize we are not bad people and we are doing the best we can, and life really is about being free, and uncontrolled, and able to evaluate actions without anyone else’s guidance or psychic domination.  Perhaps just one person may reclaim their own authority, and not give it away.  Just maybe it’s you.

Self sabotage is what happens when we feel shame.  Since we feel shame, we convince ourselves that we don’t deserve the amazing life that has been offered to us.  Instead, we find ways to accept less, go for less, come up with all sorts of reasons why we don’t  have an amazing life, amazing love, amazing people, and amazing experiences.  Instead, we see ourselves as bad people, or irresponsible people, or somehow undeserving people, and we screw it up for ourselves.  Usually, it is my observation that most don’t even see themselves doing it.  Instead, it is just the way it is.  We learn to settle for less, and accept that this is our lot in life.  How do we free ourselves up from ourselves,  from these self imposed prisons and stop self sabotaging?

What we must do is take out the garbage.

Here is a great process or exercise that I will share with you.  Write down all the things that you feel shame about.  Take your time, and write down everything.  Close your eyes for 15 minutes and see what comes up.  Write it all down on a piece of paper.  Then one night, when you feel ready to let it all go, just as the sun goes down, put the paper in a bowl and light it on fire.  The next step is very important.  Sit there and watch the paper burn.  As you are watching it, feel the guilt lifting from your body.  Imaging these clouds of shame, in the form of smoke, lifting up to the sky.  Just let them go.  Feel whatever emotions you feel.  Many people feel sadness during this process, for they have grown comfortable with their shame.  Think about it.  Without the excuse of shame, what kind of a life are you going to build for yourself.  This can be kind of scary.  Has the shame impacted your decisions about the work you do, the relationships you are in, and the activities you participate in daily?  If you didn’t feel shame, would you treat your body better, and eat healthier food?  Would you maybe stop smoking, and start exercising?  It is a powerful experience to realize all the pernicious ways shame thwarts us in life.

The toughest healing task to accomplish when feeling shame is to shift the context around the shameful event form being a victim to being author of your life.  This is very challenging, especially when something horrific was done to you.  The first step is to look at the gifts that have come as a result of the shameful act.  Often men have been sexually abused by either their father or other adult men.  This is wrong on so many levels, and I can feel my rage rising as I write this and recall the pain I have seen in these men.  Still, these men will acknowledge that as a result of what happened, they have obtained some very rare and pristine levels of awareness and sensitivity to the world around them.  When the shift can be made to full responsibility and accountability, something amazing happens.  The shameful event becomes a launching pad from which one can share rare and glorious gifts.  Rather that being a victim mired in shame, I have seen men rise like the phoenix and express a glorious level of aliveness and vitality.

Shame is a bad habit.  I suggest we can change our way of being.  Go and burn your shame.  See what happens.  I will end with some Rumi to shift the energy as I conclude this article on shame.  Rumi is always good for the soul:

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
― Rumi
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
― Rumi
“If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?”
― Rumi
“The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.”
― Rumi,
“You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?”
― Rumi


1 Second

1 Second

1 Second.

What is it about me?  Sometimes I feel so different.  Why can’t we all just admit that this life is pretty amazing!  Why can’t we love each other, feel all the joy and bliss this life offers, and forget all the bs?   There sure are a bunch of rules.  So many people feel so guilty about this and that.  We go to church each Sunday to get a weekly cleansing.  Why do we think we are dirty?  So many beliefs.  So many “have to’s.”  All of this creates filters through which life is experienced.  It makes it hard, and combative, and dehumanizing.

Am I ignorant?  Am I blind to the facts of life?  Am I too simplistic?  Do I belong back in the sixties?  Did I take too much ecstasy in my younger days?  Have I felt so much pain in this lifetime, that I have come to the point of saying, Enough is Enough! I choose deliriously happy.  I don’t need gobs of  money.  I don’t need travel.  I don’t need to be with someone.  I am.  And that is about as simple and pure as it gets.

1 Second.

During the last couple of years,  I have been increasingly aware of how fragile and tender this life that we have truly is.  Perhaps as I get older, I realize the party will someday come to an end.  Losing a few loved ones to suicide, and a mother in law to illness, points a clearly delineated path to the end.  Many of my friends have developed cancer.  The clock is ticking.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  Perhaps it is the fact that I have experienced such joy, that the end of this life seems all the more pointless and final.  And perhaps, just knowing that anything can happen at any time, all entirely out of my control, I more than ever want to grab life by the throat and celebrate all that I have been given.

Today, I received some frightening news.  My daughter Paulina, who just turned 15 ½, is now driving.  Up until today, this was great news.  How exciting for her!  When I have visited with her, we drive.  She loves to drive, and she is a great driver.  I have been training her for the last 3 years.  As with all things Paulina does, she does it with excellence.

1 Second.

The difference between life and death.

The news.  Paulina was in an automobile accident.  She called me, and sounded okay.  Shaken, but not hurt.  She and her mom were at the auto body shop, making the usual post-accident arrangements, setting up the insurance papers, and getting a rental while the damaged car is in repairs.  Looks like they will total the car.  Later I heard all the details.

1 Second.

That is what made the difference between my daughter dying today, or just being scared and really shaken up.

1 Fucking Second.

That is how close I came to losing one of my children today.  Paulina was driving to her volunteer work.  She was driving on a two lane country road, a 55 MPH road, a road with a double yellow line down the center.  She had slowed down to make a left hand turn onto the road that would take her to her destination.  She had her eyes peeled to make sure there was no oncoming traffic before making the turn.  The road was clear, so with her blinker on, she began to make the turn.  And BOOM.  Some jerk decided to cross over the yellow line, and try to pass Paulina on the left.  In all my driving, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone do something so stupid.

His car, a big SUV, destroyed the front left wheel of Paulina’s car.  Paulina told me that upon impact, she just burst out in a panic, saying she was sorry for what happened to her Mom’s car.  As she said, she “freaked out!” and started crying and screaming and curled up into a ball.   When she told me of her experience, all I could think about was what would have happened if the jerk had been 1 second later, or Paulina had been 1 second faster.  He would have rammed into Paulina’s door at 55 MPH.  It would have been a classic T-Bone.  Paulina would not have had a chance to freak out.  She would not be with us any longer.  The good news is she is only traumatized.  The good news is she is alive!

1 Second.

Throughout my life, I have been asked from time to time to be patient, and to sit on the sidelines and wait for a situation to clear up.  I am a “make it happen” kind of guy.  It is tough when I am asked to let nature take its course.  But while I have been on the sidelines, I often wonder, what if?  What if tomorrow never comes.  What if?  What if all amazing plans aren’t given a chance to manifest?  What if the sweetest joys are never experienced?    What if Paulina never gets to college, never marries, never has children, never travels the world, and never gets to do any of the things I have dreamed  for her.  What if?  What ever happened to Carpe Diem (seize the day!)?  It makes me wonder.  I am going to watch Dead Poet’s Society again!

1 Second.

In the end, I take a deep breath and I trust.  I trust my daughter has a bubble of white light always protecting her.  I trust that when the universe throws something magnificent in my life, and I must wait for a while, there is a plan.  Since there isn’t really any control, I must trust.  Else I feel I would go a bit mad.  Life is so beautiful, and my daughter is alive and well.  My life has magic in it, and such a passionate and fulfilling future awaits.   And if I am honest with myself, my life is quite off the charts amazing just as it is.   Still, this accident reminds me of how fragile it all is.  This accident also points out how special and fulfilling certain relationship are, such as between a father and his children, and between a man and a woman.  Some things in life deserve more focus and attention.  In the long run, they are more rewarding.

I will continue to feel the thin (and getting thinner) veil between this world and the other, and cherish the sublime connections I have.  I will trust all is happening exactly as it will.  And when something as jolting as this bizarre accident raps hard on my heart, I will take all of that pent up love, hold it dear,  and share it whenever I feel the calling.  This Wednesday evening, I am going to one of Paulina’s music recitals with her brother and mother.  I trust that the flute playing will sound particularly wonderful on that night.

1 second.

That is how close I was from another deathly silence.


Living An Unfiltered Life

Living An Unfiltered Life

I am sitting on my bed.   It is a special bed.  A Brookstone computer pad is sitting on my lap.  Erliechda, my trusty HP laptop, is resting just so under my sensitive fingertips.  I just fired up ITunes.  I had downloaded 192 songs from a collection entitled Music From The World Of Osho.  Right now I hear some slow and peaceful flute music.  After the day I have had, that feels just about perfect.   Hot green tea is resting on the night stand.  Let’s stop for a second, allow spirit to fill me, and patiently wait for words to spew forth.

I don’t have to wait long.  I have been thinking quite a bit lately about how I live my life, and what is truly important.  I have been putting things into the perspective of …”If I knew I only had 6 months to live, would I look back in 6 months and have any regrets?”   I know I sure do take the future for granted, like it is definitely going to be there when I am ready.  When men attend The Bridge event, they are given the opportunity to participate is a very life affirming ritual in which they confront their own mortality.  If this were my last day, how has my life in totality been?  What was really important, and what was more or less bullshit?  Where did I waste time?  Did I spend my time with people that mattered to me?  Did I live honorably?  Does that matter?  In the end, what will I regret?  In the end, what will I remember and say “I am so happy that I did that!” or “I can’t believe I let that opportunity pass me by!”  It makes me ponder the questions of  what is a life well lived.  In the end, I choose love.

Last night I had the most remarkable meditation.  Normally I sit in a half lotus position when I meditate.  Last night, I lied down on my bed.  It was a guided meditation which lasted 30 minutes.  I liked it so much, and felt so drawn in, that I had to do it a second time.  There was one point, when I was at the edge of a lake, and everything became illuminated with a rainbow of color.  I was taken away.   I did not want to leave this place.  It was so pure and still and peaceful.

As I learn to live an unfiltered life, I become increasing aware of how easily I can disappear.  During my meditation, my intention was to focus healing energy on a friend who has an injured ankle.  When I am in the other place, the astral, the spirit world, the third place, I have learned to travel, and connect, and move energy in ways that I did not know were possible.  I remember watching my old teacher, marveling at the things he could do. Now much of it makes sense.  I still have plenty to learn.  I am also very aware that with this power comes responsibility.

What does it mean to be unfiltered?  For me, it means being vulnerable.  It means being open.  It means living unprotected.  It means going for it 100%.  As my friend Daniel would say, it means sharing brave open love.  It means not always having it figured out.  It means daring to let go.  It means lightening up.  It means accepting and not controlling.  It means going against most everything I was taught about protecting myself and not getting hurt.  It means living in a space most people stay away from, and being okay with it.

It also means feeling the real depths of love, rather than the mediocrity of convenience.  It means living as a true adult, putting aside my teenage ways of being.  I mean, what is the point of being here in physical form on this amazing planet, if I am not willing to feel and breath in the true depth of the experience?  Being that I am a cancer, and we cancer folk are supposed to be highly sensitive, I feel things rather profoundly.  I have known the lacerations of betrayal.  I have felt such joy with my children.  The promise of a loving partner has filled my sails.  The disappointment of expectations unmet and love lost has brought me to tears.

“The world is a wonderfully weird place, consensual reality is significantly flawed, no institution can be trusted, certainty is a mirage, security a delusion, and the tyranny of the dull mind forever threatens — but our lives are not as limited as we think they are, all things are possible, laughter is holier than piety, freedom is sweeter than fame, and in the end it’s love and love alone that really matters.”
Tom Robbins

Love is a very unique energy.  Lately, I have learned to ride the wave of this energy.  It is very attractive.   It is big and it is intoxicating.   I have learned to swim in it.   I notice how both men and women are drawn to it.   It is irresistible.  There is a fearlessness necessary for the real thing to appear, else it is all pretense and that is very unattractive.  Love is a current.  It is not an agreement.  It is not an arrangement of I will love you if you love me back.  That is not living unfiltered.  That is rather living protected.  That is not being vulnerable.  That is hedging my bets.  It is not courageous.  It is not living at my edge.

This last month has sent me to some places energetically and emotionally I have not traveled in a while.  The places of courage, willingness, release, surrender, let go, forgiveness, adoration, devotion, betrayal, peace, joy, and returning to the source.  None of this is possible in a protected state.  Vulnerability is the key.  Security is the enemy.

In this vastness where will your ego be? In this vastness where will your suffering be? In this vastness where will your mean mind be? The mediocre mind, where will it be? It cannot be there in such vastness, it simply disappears. It can exist only in a narrow field. It can exist only when it is walled, enclosed, encapsulated. The encapsulation is the problem. Live dangerously and be ready to live in insecurity.


However, there is a price to pay for this insecurity.  For as amazing and beautiful and essentially divine so much of life may seem, and no matter how generous anyone  may be in sharing their light, there is a risk of incredible pain.  Recently I felt this pain.  It is all consuming.  Nothing seems to make sense.  Everything is muted and dark.  At times, I can’t even sit still, for a wave of what can only be called an overwhelming “diabolic bolt of dark energy ”  rocks me to my core.  In time, it passes.  I must breath threw it.  I must walk in nature.  I must cry hard tears to release it.   I must remember that this too shall pass.  This is the price.   And I will gladly pay it.

So why do it?  Why live unfiltered, if there is the possibility of gut wrenching pain.  I have asked myself this quite a bit lately, as you might imagine.  My answer is that I can’t stop.  My spirit simply will no longer allow it.   I have no choice.   I must live fully.  As Helen Keller said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”  The best way I can say it, is to share a most amazing and true poem that I recently found online.  Having spent much time with remarkable women in sacred space, these words reverberate loud and clear.

If you want to change the world… Love a woman – really Love her. Find the one who calls to your soul, who doesn’t make sense.

Throw away your check list and put your ear to her heart and listen.Hear the names, the prayers, the songs of every living thing-every winged one, every furry and scaled one,every underground and underwater one, every green and flowering one,every not yet born and dying one…

Hear their melancholy praises back to the One who gave them life.If you haven’t heard your own name yet, you haven’t listened long enough.

If your eyes aren’t filled with tears, if you aren’t bowing at her feet, you haven’t ever grieved having almost lost her.If you want to change the world…

Love a woman – one woman beyond yourself, beyond desire and reason,beyond your male preferences for youth, beauty and variety and all your superficial concepts of freedom.

We have given ourselves so many choices we have forgotten that true liberation comes from standing in the middle of the soul’s fire and burning through our resistance to Love.

There is one Goddess in every woman. Look into Her eyes and see-really see if she is the one to bring the axe to your head. If not, walk away. Right now. Don’t waste time “trying.”

Know that your decision has nothing to do with her because ultimately it’s not with who, but when we choose to surrender.

If you want to change the world… Love a woman. Love her for life – beyond your fear of death,beyond your fear of being manipulated by the Mother inside your head.

Don’t tell her you’re willing to die for her. Say you’re willing to LIVE with her, plant trees with her and watch them grow.

Be her hero by telling her how beautiful she is in her vulnerable majesty, by helping her to remember every day that she IS Goddess through your adoration and devotion.

If you want to change the world… Love a woman in all her faces, through all her seasons and she will heal you of your schizophrenia-your double-mindedness and half-hardheartedness which keeps your Spirit and body separate-which keeps you alone and always looking outside your Self for something to make your life worth living.

There will always be another woman. Soon the new shiny one will become the old dull one and you’ll grow restless again, trading in women like cars, trading in the Goddess for the latest object of your desire.

Man doesn’t need any more choices. What man needs is a Woman, the Way of the Feminine, of Patience and Compassion, non-seeking, non-doing, of breathing in one place and sinking deep intertwining roots strong enough to hold the Earth together while she shakes off the cement and steel from her skin.

If you want to change the world… Love a woman, just one woman. Love and protect her as if she is the last holy vessel.

Love her through her fear of abandonment which she has been holding for all of humanity.

No, the wound is not hers to heal alone. No, she is not weak in her co-dependence. If you want to change the world…

Love a woman all the way through until she believes you,until her instincts, her visions, her voice, her art, her passion, her wildness have returned to her …

… until she is a force of Love more powerful than all the political media demons who seek to devalue and destroy her.

If you want to change the world, lay down your causes, your guns and protest signs.

Lay down your inner war, righteous anger and Love a woman…beyond all of your striving for greatness, beyond your tenacious quest for enlightenment.

The holy grail stands before you if you would only take her in your arms and let go of searching for something beyond this intimacy.

What if peace is a dream which can only be re-membered through the heart of the feminine, in man or woman?

What if a man’s Love for Woman, the Way of the Feminine is the key to opening Her (and His) heart?

If you want to change the world…
Love a woman to the depths of your shadow,
to the highest reaches of your Being,
back to the Garden where you first met her,
to the gateway of the rainbow realm where you walk through together as Light as One,
to the point of no return,
to the ends and the beginning of a new Earth…”    Anonymous

So many lines in this poem wash over me with layer and layer of meaning.   The Grail stands before you.  She is the Grail.  Falling for the one who calls to my soul and doesn’t make sense describes my calling.  Just one woman is all this loyal male seeks.  I have sat in so many rooms among so many men, and I know this poem is a minority report.   This is not what passes for wisdom or truth out there in the world.  That strikes me as sad and ignorant.  My port is open.  My surrender is complete.  I am ready to embrace her.  May She honor me in her time.

A few months ago, I was sweating it out in a very hot sauna at  Coach’s Corner in Sebastopol.  The man next to me, who worked in hospice care,  told me about an article on the regrets of the dying.  I found it and want to share it with you.

Bonnie Ware, an Australian nurse who provides palliative care for dying patients, has recorded their most common regrets. One of the top ones is “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.” What would your biggest regret be if this was your last day of life?

 Here are the top five regrets of the dying, as witnessed by Ware:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

2. I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

Finally, this week has reminded me that the universe will always only give me what I can handle.   I can trust that I am being watched over, and that I am being held in a safe warm place.  After a really bad day, then comes a truly magnificent and miraculous day.  It is a day to let go of the past, and embrace what is now showing up for me.  My light has found new places to shine.   I have attempted to live valiantly and give everything I have to those that I love.  If I died tomorrow, I will know I did not play it safe and protected.   I opened my soul, shared all I have, and loved like a true heart warrior.    No Regrets!